


the wave to the sea

by Justausernameonline



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dhampir AU, Disabled Character, Drowning, Edelthea SVX, F/F, Pre-Relationship, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23077897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justausernameonline/pseuds/Justausernameonline
Summary: Dorothea lets through a fragment of its power pearl each note, buoyed on her breath and steadying, relieved laughter to the end of her session as she heads to the dock, instead brushing a body thrashing in the waves.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41
Collections: 2020 Edelthea Secret Valentines Exchange





	the wave to the sea

**Author's Note:**

> cw: drowning at the beginning
> 
> Hi all, here is my (very) belated Edelthea Secret Valentine's Gift* to softshocks, aka (edit: @technoplastics?) on Twitter! Please check out their writings too, like their ongoing 1800s AU!

Clear nights on a beach tend to inspire carelessness. 

And empty shore promises long hours of serenade to fill the dark, Dorothea knows. She canvassed the area to be sure, and checked the hourly forecast the entire trip in the bus. The dock holds strong underneath her as she crosses to the edge.

It never ceases to trouble her, plunging in and hoping her safety remains unchallenged in the duration she’s in the water. The right people would notice her missing before worst came to worst. She hugs her cane to her chest, forcing herself to laugh, and plunges in. Here her dormant spell lifts, coursing through the water.

Below the surface, time passes swiftly. Dorothea swims the length of the coast once, thrice, and flops to the bottom in exhilaration. Air bubbles in the churning water carved by her fins, brushing her skin, sending ripples down her hair as she glides around with a song from a dream sent along the cooling current. 

Its onus bears no ill effects when she is inland, where people elude the call beyond the shore, farthest from abyssal concerns. Even her lyrics are half-hearted. They address no one in particular, unlike those of long before. 

Dorothea lets through a fragment of its power pearl each note, buoyed on her breath and steadying, relieved laughter to the end of her session as she heads to the dock, instead brushing a body thrashing in the waves. 

A woman as young as she, alone in the dark. Her floating, silver white hair frames the pain wracking her body. 

She weakens with each second, all frenzied and without experience. 

“Oh,” Dorothea says numbly, and reaches for her hand, feels it loosening in grip as she pulls the woman close and hugs her waist, blood roaring in her ears.

Her singing is instructive, these days, and shies from bending people to her whim— abhors the very thought of it. With the woman in her arms, she begs her to wake.

Both of them breach the water and slam onto the shore. Dorothea, turning her body just so, cushions the woman from the impact. Her back feels scraped raw, but she shakes it off and falls onto her stomach, gently turning the woman to her side in the sand. 

A single incantation said under Dorothea's breath coaxes the woman's body to convulse, coughing and expelling the saltwater from her lungs before she weakly sinks to the sand, growing still. The tide pushes in and wets her from the chest up.

Dorothea stiffens, quickly muffles a sob behind her lips. Carefully, she touches the woman’s back over soaked clothing, trying to gather healing magic in her fingertips to no avail. 

The night is colder, suddenly.

Before she could search the woman’s pulse behind her turtleneck, the woman grabs her wrist, surprisingly strong, her eyes firmly shut. “That’s quite enough,” she rasps, grimacing, as she withdraws her hand. “M-My apologies.”

“Sorry,” Dorothea murmurs, relief flooding her chest. Her laughter rings a note shy of hysterical. Then she remembers her tail, wringing awkwardly on the ground, and doubles back toward the water. The night she so cherished to conceal her musings in the dark has brightened to blue hour and colors across the shore. 

_What was she thinking?_ The thought itself is fleeting, as the the woman flops on her back, alive and alive and alive and well, and shivering, an arm thrown over her face as her breaths even out. 

Dorothea doesn’t smile, not yet. Had she cast her spell, she would have already had her phone on hand. Of her roommates, Mercedes was a registered nurse, Leonie knew the streets of Enbarr like the back of her hand, and Dedue had all the culinary virtuosity to soothe in a meal. Obligation and discretion spar in mind. 

“We’re the only ones on the beach,” she says gently, in lieu of a greeting. By now, she was floating in the water, hoping to leave as politely as one could.

“Your voice is farther.” The woman rises to sitting position, swiping at her eyes in an attempt to remove the sand. Her voice is like silk, when no longer waterlogged. “Why is that?”

“No cause for concern, really. I put distance between us to help you feel safe.” A glance to the sky only sets Dorothea in more unease, and she anxiously twists her cane. She had to get her dry change of clothes and things and bail, but not before the woman was off. “All I ask is you to not look at me.” 

“Of course. Who am I to refuse such a request?” 

“Oh.” Dorothea can’t help her surprised laugh. However tenuous the moment felt, she was glad for the woman taking it in stride. “An overly generous one, I’m afraid. I’m just a stranger.”

“A stranger who saved my life,” the woman counters, incredulous. 

“Fair.” 

“I must leave once I regain my bearings, but I’d like to keep in touch. May I have your name?” 

Dorothea, foolish as she felt, but never foolish as everyone believed, feels the thrum of her heart quicken in her chest. “It’s fine. Your recovery is recompense enough.” 

“Nonsense.” She wobbles to her feet, frowning, and Dorothea stares at the sand that cakes her skin and hair, the soaked clothes clinging to her glaring figure—

Dorothea averts her eyes in an instant, drops her head into the water, embarrassed by the observation. As much as she wished to relieve the woman of the cold and dirt altogether, her hands stay at her sides, treading water. “Leave it be, please. We’ve places to be, and your family must be worried for you, aren’t they?”

“My…” The woman’s breath hitches. “Right. Very well.” She turns away, facing inland. “And you?”

“I have a bus to catch. Will you be all right?”

“As I’ll ever be, thanks to you.” 

There is a smile in her voice, and Dorothea can’t speak, unable to help the flutter in her throat at knowing she was the cause. Not every day did she rescue someone from the water, much less confidently without the necessary training.

Her knuckles brace under her chin, a nervous habit of hers. “Good,” she says at last. “That’s good.” When the woman waves over her shoulder, Dorothea bobs up in the water, wringing her cane. “One more thing! On your left is an outdoor shower station. It’s worth the wait.” 

“I’ll be sure to use it.” The woman lists her head to the side, hands on her hips. “Thank you, miss. May we meet again.”

“Again?” Dorothea echoes. “In Enbarr?” 

“If you’ve lived here as long as me, then you know it’s only a matter of time.”

“Bet.” 

“With my life,” the woman says, so confident, so trusting, and Dorothea’s head spins and spins. “Well... until next time, miss.” She’s leaving before Dorothea knows it, shuffling up the ramp to the walkway, hands in her pockets. Dorothea drifts in the waves, breathless.

Never does the woman break her promise. 

Slowly, and then all at once, fatigue and guilt crash into Dorothea, as she swims underneath the dock and casts her spell, finding her belongings to change into dry clothes before her legs buckle hard. 

The brightening sky falls on the silhouette of the cityscape, and the long, long path back to home. 

She sags into a seat at the bus boarding area, head in her hands and in the moment she pulled the woman out of the water. The panic that came at the precipice of almost revealing a secret, the horror felt when she thought she had lost her, through a serenade weakly sung. A quiet joy, when she woke.

Dorothea has had many regrets in her life, but not this. Gladly, willingly, she would help the woman, again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> *subject to interpretation, as i purposely left the ending open-ended. i'm interested in continuing this au, if the recipient is okay with it!


End file.
